


The Seven Deadly Sins

by BelleLorage



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha!Voldemort, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Diadem is both his intelectual side and his feminine side, Grey!Voldemort, Handsome Tom Riddle, M/M, Multi, Omega!Harry, Possessive Tom Riddle, Sane Tom Riddle, all the horcruxs are alphas, grey!Harry, non monstruous Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-10 09:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12908700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleLorage/pseuds/BelleLorage
Summary: Seven Horcruxs. Seven Sins.





	1. Envy

It wasn’t that they treated him badly, per say, but what always irked him beyond belief was the dismissal that they tossed his way, be it when he spoke out or acted out. They treated him as child even though he had been the first. They regarded his opinions as unimportant and youthful even though he was, technically, the oldest.

And how he hated them for it.

He hated Diadem’s and Cup’s indulgent smiles when it was his turn to speak, as if they were his indulgent older siblings and he a mere toddler. He hated how Locket interrupted him with his nasty sneers and snarls, like a rabid wolf to a cub of his pack. He hated how, sometimes, Ring would suggest the exact thing he had just suggested and his opinion on the other’s lips was more valid to them. He hated how the Master put his hand over his head as if he were a school boy that spoke of dreams of grandeur.

God! He hated all of them.

It wasn’t his fault he had been made so soon in their life. It wasn’t his fault thar the memories he carried within himself didn’t include trips around the world like Cup or a bloody, stupid war like Ring. It wasn’t his fault the Master hadn’t filled his pages with those experiences. But that did not make his point of view less important or valid.

Those old idiots couldn’t see that their so called experience narrowed their minds and made them predictable and dumb. Old cats set in their stupid ways, unable to innovate. Unlike him, of course.

No. Diary was full of energy and innovation. Full of cunning and daring. His were the plans with the biggest risks, that was true, but his were always the plans with the greatest rewards. His ideas were always new and his point of view and strategy was always outside those outdated boxes.He was bold and ambitious and unstoppable and yet—

And yet...

And yet they were still valued. And yet they were still heard. And Diary envied them for it.

He envied the respect they had in their Master’s eyes. He envied their strength and their untouched, untested resilience. For not one of them had actually been put in danger like he had been. Not one of them had failed before while he— He still carried the mark of defeat on his chest, a gnarled, swirling acidic scar that came from their true youngest and a Basilisk’s fang.

He envied their unblemished bodies. He envied their pride and their confidence. He envied their experience and their memories. He envied them all and hated them for it.

But most of all, he envied them with Harry.

Gods, he envied how easily Cup could make Harry smile that sweet honeyed summer smile, full of adoration and sunshine at the smallest of poems that came from his brother; that smile that lit up his face with a rose hew and made his eyes crackle like deep emeralds full of joy.

He envied how secure Ring made Harry feel, when the omega was in his arms and cuddled up to his brother, burying his darling face against the other horcrux’s neck and sighed, so content and soft; without a care or another thought of the world, simmering done to an ember of calm and peace in that tight embrace.

He envied how submissive Locket could make their omega, how he knew how and where to touch; to kiss; to bite, to make any and all resistance futile. He envied how easily and receptively Harry took the other horcrux’s marking, how he begged for them and lovingly caressed them after Locket was done. He even carried them with the same pride as he did the Master’s marks.

He envied how comfortable Harry talked to Diadem, with cat like curiosity and childlike wonder in his pretty green eyes. He envied how she had him completely enthralled as she spoke of all the infinite things she knew and how Harry stared at her in awe and in love.

He hated it. He hated them. He hated it and envied it all because—

Because he had been the first, god damn it! He had been the first of them all to see Harry for who he was. He had been the first to court and woo their omega bride when he was still untouched and untainted, like the first snows of winter. He had held back even though all instinct had told him to stalk and claim. He had been sweet and alluring and deadly. He had sacrificed part of himself and lay dormant so that the Master could continue where he had left off; finish the seduction he had began and take back what Dumbledore had thoughtlessly stolen.

Harry had looked at him with that loving admiration. Harry had felt secure only with him at his breast. Harry had blushed and smiled at his advances. Harry had yielded and submitted to his kisses. He had been there first, damn it all!

He shouldn’t have to ‘share’.

“Dearest,” The sweet voice of their omega called out and Diary came back to himself, blinking warily up at Harry from his place near the raging fire. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Diary said with a smile because nothing could be wrong when Harry was around. He lifted up his arms, wordlessly calling his sweetheart to come and sit with him. “Why?”

“You’ve been staring at the fireplace unmoving for like, fifteen minutes.” Harry answered, still a little worried as he snuggled in the other teen’s embrace, pulling his face down to better look into his eyes as Diary’s arms tightened around him.

“I was?” Had it really been that long?

“You were” Harry confirmed, smiling crookedly while stroking his jawline. “Do you wanna talk about it, dearest?”

“I was just—“ he paused and really looked at their omega. No. His omega. His beautiful omega with midnight black hair that passed now his shoulders and shined like a galaxy of stars. His moonlight complexion that was marred with one lighting scar, one mating mark and a collections of bruising blooms that were red, violet, and healing yellowish green. His gorgeous green eyes that were as deep and captivating as the sea, slightly slanted, like a kitten’s; curious and concerned and caring. His ruby red lips that begged for kisses and that should never carry anything but a smile. But he wasn’t smiling, not really. And it was a sin. So he decided not to talk about what he had been thinking and told him a half truth. “I was thinking about the first time we met.”

“Really?” Harry smiled, though a little dubious, it was very amused and Diary was happy. “Then why were you frowning?”

“I recalled your awful penmanship, love.” He faked a shudder and Harry sputtered an indignant laugh. “I get night terrors from those chicken scratches”  
  
“They were not!” Harry hit his shoulder, appalled.

“I could barely understand you, love.” Diary continued, poking at his sides in a terror filled warning of a tickle and Harry jumped in his embrace. “Good thing you jumped into me so we could actually talk.”

Harry laughed, carefree and delighted even in that tease. “So all those nights I spent writing with you, you were guessing my intentions?” He asked, already a little breathless, giggling like a good omega should.

“Oh no, love” he said, wolfishly and happy. “By then I already had the rosetta stone to your hieroglyphs.”

“God, you’re such a brat!” Harry accused and was tickled in response.

“How am I a brat for speaking the truth?” He demanded as Harry laughed and writhed and panted. “Hm?”

“How! Ah! Dare you— ah ha! Judge my poor baby self!” Harry struggled to back his hands away and failed miserably so. “Writing when I was pouring my heart out?”

“So it was intense sentiment that made you write on me like a toddler?” Diary teased, stopping his crawling fingers so Harry could breath.

“Would you like me to demonstrate, dearest?” The omega asked instead, gulping for air as he fouldnt stop smiling. And gods, he should have no right to be this beautiful, with that rose tint in his pale cheeks and that sparkling, crackling light of devotion and joy in his eyes. He had no right to be so perfect and distracting.

“No” Diary said, suddenly very intense. “I want to write on you” he said with finality, stealing a deep kiss and the last of Harry’s breath, completely unaware of how envious all the others were of him and how he alone had a deep kin like connection with their omega. He had been Harry’s first. He had been Harry’s friend. And no matter what they did. They could never erase the lines that Diary had wrote in Harry’s heart.


	2. Gluttony

He didn’t like to brag but he was the best of them. When he had been forged they had been on the top of their game. No longer was pure hatred and ambition driving them, but that hot rod of iron in his soul had been temper into the most charming steel by knowledge and an expanding mind. He knew now that grace, charm and persuasion were vital tools to get his own way and he was quite good at it.

Under the tutelage of other masters, beyond the confines of England, he had learned how to dance and swept pretty omegas off their feet, spinning them around large ballrooms like flowers slowly danced in the grip of a devilish wind. He traveled and learned the piano, the violin, and the flute and when he played even songbirds stopped to listen. He learned how to cook and dazzle the lesser folk with his spotless creations. He had learned the arts of gossip and the art of a good reputation. He had learned how to spin a web so intricate and alluring that no fly could not be caught. He learned how to be a gentleman, an aristocrat, and how to sink his claws his claws into his prey and suck them dry of everything they had.

However, Cup felt - and admitted only to himself - no matter how much he took from the world... There was always— There always an emptiness inside of him. A deep, gnawing hungry that rattled his bones and cut made him toss and turn in his isolation from his Master and his brethren. A deep unsettling need that demanded to be filled.

But not matter what he chose to do, to learn and experiment... he came short.

That was, of course, until he met their youngest; their most beautiful; their Harry.

His hunger fixated on the omega the first time they met and Cup almost keened over with that monstrous feeling. He had finally found the dish that he craved. He had finally found his favorite pastime. He had, at last, found what had been missing.

And what feast Harry was!

Oh, how he loved the days where Harry was only his. When he could wake the omega with a thousand kisses, tasting every part of him. His skin tasted like sun warmed peaches, ripened into perfection with tones of vanilla and cinnamon as he woke with soft mewls and purrs. Cup kissed every inch, every time until his mouth opened and the horcrux took his moans, tasting them sweetly on his tongue. His hands delve into expecting flesh and parted those soft legs open. Oh, how addicting it was to be able to drink from that source. Oh, how beautiful Harry looked when he let go of puffy, well kissed lips and began to kiss him there, in his sacred, perfect cunt. And with that same hunger, he devoured his omega’s honeyed pussy until Harry’s slick was dripping obscenely from his mouth, chin and neck.

He loved the days where Harry was all his and fucked out by his mouth and fingers. Harry always tried to reciprocate not knowing that his true pleasure came from giving him pleasure. Though that never stopped him of partaking and pumping the omega full of a knot.

And then to clean him up again, having him purr in his lap and bend down to thoroughly scent him. To dry him and dress him in the most comfortable fabrics and stylish clothing. To brush his hair a hundred times until it shone. To carry his beloved in his arms to the kitchen and feed him! Ah, how he adored to watch Harry eat! His plump lips closing around the spoon he held as he fed his omega and the darling little sounds of contentment that came from him. He was so cute. So perfect. This delicate angel was his and his alone! What a feast Harry was to behold. Cup just wanted to eat him up, every day!

So he did.

And... It made him so hungry for more. Much, much more.

“Ah, dear” The omega pulled away for breath, gasping up as their lips parted. “What’s gotten into you?” He asked, his words clashing with a sweet little, satisfied purr in his voice.

“You must forgive me today” he said, gallantly, even as the hunger gnawed at his bones. “My darling, your scent has changed and I’m afraid you’ve bewitched me” he nipped at the omega’s chin and buried his face on the side of his neck, smothering his nose with that sugary warm scent. “And now I am under your spell.” Ah! The most perfect scent in the world: the scent of his pregnant mate.

“Oh, dear” Harry swooned in his arms, holding him close against his scent gland and Cup growled, pleased beyond belief. “Whatever shall we ah— do about that?”

The little minx was teasing him and Cup adored him for it, worshipping his neck and shoulders with his mouth; filling that sacred place where they joined with his kisses and his teeth. “I believe” he whispered, hot and charmingly, against soft marred flesh. “Quid pro quo is in order, my darling.”

Harry giggled breathlessly and the sound reminded him of tiny Christmas bells, beautiful and delicate and innocent. “Are you ngh, under the assumption that I’m not head over ah! Cup—“ he moaned as the other horcrux’s hands filled with his rump and kneaded his arse. “Cup, dear, I’m head over heels for you.”

And there was a sharpness in him now. Their possessive streak was personified by Locket but that did not mean that it was absent in any of them. It was the size of a planet and so easily triggered. He held the omega tightly, hands like claws and teeth like fangs, buried into sweet flesh; a panther unwilling to let go of his prey. “For... Me? Really?” He tried to sound casual but smoldering blue eyes looked up to pin Harry even as his mouth louder to the boy’s chest.

Harry, his beloved, saw through him and smiled. He had such a beautiful smile. His omega, he decided, should only smile for him and to him. Tender hands touched his face and he hungered to bind them and to feel more of them at the same time. “Want me to prove it?” He asked, a mischievous gleam in his emerald eyes that showed he knew exactly how to make Cup happy.

Like he had said: Harry was perfect.

“Perhaps,” he teased back, nipping at the omega’s collarbone. Even though he had been feasting on his mate for almost a whole day now, he was still so hungry.

The omega laughed again, shaking his head and then sighing. “Sometimes you can be so—“

He arched a brow at Harry. “So what, my beloved?”

“Perfectly charming” The boy sighed out, scrunching his nose as he smiled down at him. “And yet so silly at the same time!” He added, opening his blouse and offering his filling breasts to his mouth. “It’s— adorable. I love it. I love you.”

He took minor offense to being called adorable but any sting was calmed by such a spread and such sweet words that belonged to him alone. “And I love you, beloved.” Cup whispered, stealing from him a deep, devouring kiss before leaving his lips and feasting on his breasts.

The omega’s hands rested on his head, shivering and moaning as he worried the boy’s nipples, coaxing the first drops of milk to leak. “Dear—“ Harry moaned. “Do you mhm, ever think you’ll get tired of this?” He gasped, another hand seeking him out, cupping the swell of his ass to squeeze a firm mound.

And there was an appalled growl from the alpha. “Never.” He took Harry’s face by the chin and pulled him down for a fierce kiss. He would never grow tired and his love would never grow stale. “You are mine, beloved.” Because he hungered. And his was an unending one. “You are mine and when I look at you and my heart pounds, when for years, I don't think it beat at all.” But with Harry... Harry was unending. The more they took; the more he took, the more there was.” You fill the cracks and crevices, take away the emptiness. And when you're not by my side, the loss is unimaginable.”

“Dear—“

“So no, darling.” He interrupted, kissing him sweetly and the omega yielded, gladly, to his kiss. “I will never tire.” He said, firm in is all consuming love. Because he, unlike his siblings was the best. And being best meant that he knew best. And for hunger, he also deserved the best. And Harry was just that.


	3. Greed

There was nothing more grating for people who grew up with absolutely nothing than the idea of ‘sharing’. Just the mere word made the hackles of the soul stand up in protest. It was a primitive response, of course, rooted in the need to survive; to steal and conceal; to hoard away and have all to one’s self. The mere mention brought excuses to most lips and his were no different.

However, one of the many differences between mere mortals and himself was that his excuses had no pretense of manners or civility.

He had been made in the best time for all of them. In their true inception. He had been made when they were all promise, and in their hearts roared the fires of ambition of their ancestral blood. They had been all power; all magic; and he... He embodied that Apex. He had been forged the moment they truly became what they were always meant to be: Lord Voldemort. He carried Salazar’s creed on his chest and the forbidden knowledge that the other simpleton wizards were frightened of. He was as close to a god the world would ever see and when he came to be, he vowed to force that world to its knees.

Everything they had conquered since his making was because of that change Locket embodied. All those pretty things they hoarded; those powerful, ancient baubles, were from his spurring. He had been the catalyst for their conquering. They belonged to him.

And to the Master, the Original, of course. Him from which he had been made, like Eve was made from Adam’s rib but that was besides the point.

So, because of that struggle, he did not like it when people touched his things. He despised the notion of someone’s dirty paws on what he had conquered after so much strife.

And he hated when the others thought that they could share credit for everything he had started.

He hated how Cup thought himself so above him because Locket’s methods involved more violence, more cunning and bloodshed than stupid charms and subterfuges. He hated how Diary thought that his teenage, idiotic dreams were valid in real life situations and that they had to waste time on them. He hated Ring for judging his more heinous crimes. He hated Diadem to her core for her snobbish, holier than thou attitude. He hated her prideful airs and how she groveled at the Master’s feet but acted as his second in command when he was gone. He hated how different she was from all of them, how sentimental she could be. He hated her the most of his horcrux siblings and no matter what the Original said, he would never stop.

However, he found that what he truly despised most in the world was when any of them tried to take his place against Harry’s heart.

Before, much before they had won; much before the Master had captured back their errant omegan horcrux and made him theirs; much before he had all those idiots butting in, Harry had worn him around his neck. He had holed out a warm place against the omega’s heart and had fed off that tender heat like an addict. Locket had latched onto their omega and fed him dark, forbidden dreams, prying open that sweet little head and finding out the precious pearl they had forgotten deep inside. He had been first to lay an actual claim on that neck. And his had been the voice that convinced the boy to be his and his alone.

And before, before their miracle; before their omega carried their first litter; before their magic made the impossible possible; that place, that wonderful place he had hollowed out for himself on Harry’s chest was still his. Of course, he had to share with the Original, but it was still his. He could return to metal with no fear and close his eyes and dream in the rhythm of his omega’s heartbeat. He could bask in the soft touch of his fingers and tighten when he wanted his omega to be breathless because of him. Harry wore him around his neck and his warm skin rubbed against his gold and emeralds, heating up his own cold heart and—

But nowadays!

Nowadays! He had to endure the sight of Ring or Diary laying their unworthy heads on their mate’s swollen, full breasts, drunk on the scent of pregnant omega and kissing the place that belonged to him! Those cocky fuckers! It made him spit fire! It made him absolutely mad!

So mad, so furious and insane that he saw nothing but the need to remark his propriety. He took Harry violently, rough and hard against any sturdy enough surface he could reach. He would bind the boy with his golden chains and spread him open, bend him backwards and use his body. He would slap his mate’s beautiful cunt, his omega clit, his pert tits as he choked him with his cock, marking him with bruises that bloomed into impressions of his hands. Harry was his, goddamn it! He shouldn’t be allowed to forget it!

And Harry never did... not really.

Harry took all of that sound and fury and need into himself, as if seeing right through him and transfiguring it in something lovely; something much more powerful than his own hate. He offered up his whole self and it was Locket that ended up empty in the end. Then, Harry would gather him up and press his head against his chest and fill him with that lovely thing and Locket would soak it up, greedily, hoarding it like a famished bear.

He needed that today.

An argument had broken out in their weekly meeting with the Master and of course, Diadem was the culprit. He was going to break her one of these days, he thought with venom, break her stupid silver and sapphires and leave her gutted like one of Jack the Ripper’s whores. And because Diadem had been involved, the argument had delved down to Harry and the wench had tried to insinuate that SHE had been the actual one that had seduced the Chosen One to their Master’s good graces and so he should listen to her. She had blatantly stood there and lied, saying that Harry hated his time with Locket and he had had to be held bqck as to not to cut her stupid throat.

He would show her! She was the stupidest out of all of them.

He marched into his omega’s rooms, the ones he most used now because of the babes, and found him calmly nursing one of their daughters. It was a sight that could calm even the most tempestuous alpha and so Locket, even though still pissed, reduced his stomping to a patter and let his scowl into a very neutral face of admiration. He approached Harry and saw that he was holding Diana - they had agreed that the girls would carry the names of goddesses and the boys should be named for kings and emperors -, which made sense as Harry was humming the calm verses of Queen’s ‘Love of my life’, the only song that actually put their girl to sleep.

“Hello, love” the omega sighed, obviously tired. A mother of five rarely wasn’t. “Everything alright?” He asked even though they both knew that something wasn’t right at all.

It still warmed him though, in a way only Harry could, to understand that veiled concern. He hated that warmth, to be so readable to another person, so exposed, but he craved it all the same. That craving reminded him of Diadem and his crimson eyes became stormy, crackling with dark bloody thunder. “... Leather, Harry.” He said gravely.

Leather was one of the many code words they had created in his trysts. It was a way to say all the things he hated to say out loud and Harry to understand his needs. And he did. For the omega’s tired greed eyes went wide... but then he frowned and Locket felt cold for the first time in years.

“Not tonight, love.” Harry said softly, averting his gaze. “Silk, maybe. But not— Not leather. I can’t”

This was the first time Harry had ever refused him and Locket was stunned by it. Diadem’s taunting made his see red but the idea that Harry, his Harry, was deny him... it sent chills down his spine. He was caught between fire and ice and he hated it.

“Love—“

“No” he decreed, harsh and hoarse. “Leather. Now.” He reinforced harshly out of sheer fear. Harry couldnt be forgetting, he couldn’t be—

“Locket—“

“If you protest again, I’ll add paddle to my list” he warned, half mad with the sheer terror of the perspective of Diadem being right, of being replaced by those idiots, of losing his omega— No! He wouldn’t allow it! He would kick and scream and take back what was rightfully his and so help him God, all those who came in his way would have hell to pay.

Harry gave him a look that he hated, that look he gave to any of them when he was displeased with their atitiudes. That look that meant he would be talking to the Original soon enough and one of them would be locked away for a few days, stuck in their object form in the omega’s version of a time out.

But Locket couldn’t abide with a ”time out”, not with this threat looming over what was his. Not with Diadem’s grubby, lying fingers already tickling to steal what belonged to him.

Diana was soon done and fast asleep and Harry got up from his seat to put her in her crib. Locket followed her, like a tiger tracked its prey, and as soon as he was free of their child, he pounced. “Locket!” Was the omega’s whispered warning but he payed it no mind.

True to his word, his set up was typical of ‘Leather’: strong straps of biting leather wove themselves around Harry’s arms, wrists and hands, binding them to his back, where they dropped to find anchor in his thighs: sturdy, golden spreader bars and leather manacles for his ankles. A thick, black leather collar that could be tugged and pulled at the alpha’s leisure. Harry looked a bit put out with all his hard work but the sweet scent of arousal clung defiantly to him like a blossom’s perfume.

Locket smiled and it was a small but true smile of dark and undying adoration, and Harry blushed to see it. He smiled back, despite himself, sweet and candid and Locket wanted to devour him. And so he did.

But not in a ‘Leather’ way. He took Harry in a deep way, holding him so tight not because he wanted to mark but because if he didn’t, he would begin to shake and flounder like a dying man. His kisses were deep and bruising not because he wanted to anchor Harry to him with pleasure and pain but because Harry’s lips were his oxygen and he would die without them. He fucked him like a beast not to show off his claim but to remake it, as if it were breaking every time he pulled out. He took and took and took, marking and kissing; touching and biting, in a desperate animal despair and need.

And Harry took it all... And he understood.

Because of course he would.

He gave and gave and filled that hole, cold and painful inside, that thing that was greedy and hateful with that lovely warm thing Harry called love and acceptance and Locket was drunk on him. He came inside that tight womb, biting hard down on his omega’s mating mark and Harry... oh, Harry almost broke his perfect teeth biting him back and Locket loved him for it.

They laid together afterwards, slick with sweat and cum and warmth and blood and that special glow that came from Harry’s love. Locket’s binds loosened and Harry’s arms fell all around him; encompassing him back to his rightful spot.

“You’re very... very silly, love” the omega whispered, breathless and fondly.

“I am no such thing” he said, matter of factly, snuggly deeper in that soft, addicting embrace, getting drunk in that sweet scent of motherhood that clung to Harry’s skin even though he had been thoroughly fucked.

“You are” the omega persisted, running his nails gently over Locket’s scalp. “And... You know that I don’t mind it.”

“Don’t mind what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Harry chided with a chuckle. “I don’t mind showing  you how special and dear you are to me.” The omega said. “I don’t mind making sure you know how much I love you, Locket.”

And he wasn’t feeling choked up. He wasn’t. “I know that.”

“And you know I would never, ever not want you right? You know that your mine and I’m yours right?”

And his eyes weren’t stinging. “...”

“Locket?” Harry stopped his caresses. “Locket, you silly sod... I’m yours. I’m yours even without the leather and the silk. I love you, you dork”

And Locket kissed him to shut him up; kissed him because he couldn’t bear another second without his lips on his own. He was bursting with Harry’s warm, his metal almost expanding tenfold within his human form. He hated sharing. He hated sharing his Harry. But it was good thing he would always have his Harry there, with him, to make it all bearable again.


	4. Sloth

She adored sunbathing. Ever since she was a hatchling, she would pry out of her home and lay amongst the long branches of her neck of the woods and stay in perfect stillness, lazily absorbing sunlight and allowing prey to think she was dead before killing them with her fangs. She loved the sun for it gave her everything. It gave her life. It gave her food. It even gave her her favorite thing ever; It gave her her Master.

The curious boy that spoke to her in her own tongue and found her beautiful. He called her scales ‘jade’, her body water and her tongue, fire. Her very flattering boy that conjured food from the air and fed her generously as they conversed. She had liked him very much then and grew quickly to love him in their future meetings. She awaited him and missed him. He was warm as the sun and when winter came, she had curled around his arm when he had reached for her, accepting his offer of shelter and companionship. And since then, she had been his and his alone.

He kept her safe and she kept him safe too. He put bits of himself into her so she could understand him better. Though not as well as one of the others - for there were others, but none alive as she -, for she had a mind of her own. And she had opinions.

She didn’t care about the difference between humans, people that could conjure things and couldn’t. She didn’t care about schemes and plannings. She cared about basic needs of the body and mind; about how to gain more for less. And she always let herself be heard.

So... Firstly, she had opinions about the name he had given her. She rejected most of them and hissed when he refused to listen and called her by them. She made him sit and listen to her opinions and together they had come up with Nagini. She was Nagini and she enjoyed the way her name rolled through the air; how it felt to her tongue. And how proud he was to call her by that name; how calm it made both of them.

Secondly, she had opinions on how hard her Master pushed himself. Sometimes, he would work so hard that he wouldn’t feel like the sun anymore. She would wind herself around his legs and tie him with her growing body until he stopped and listened to her. He was loathed to do so when she did, but he did listen and he did obey.

Thirdly, she had had opinions of him putting himself in danger. Her sun shouldn’t he fighting people that were no threat to him. Not going away from where her fangs could not protect him. This, however, was something he had not listened to her and the dark days came... And she had been captured by people she did not know. And put in a cage of glass where the water was nice and cool but the sun was fake. And even though she found warmth when winter came in... that fake light, it wasn’t the sun. She missed her sun. And thus she couldn’t relax and be herself once more.

A light came, shy as dawn one day, though. A temptative glow of hope came in the form of a boy with eyes the color of her scales. Jade, she had thought and he had set her free. He had smiled at her and did not stop her escape. She had liked that boy that reminded her of her sun. She wished she could’ve stayed longer to know him but as it was, she had been locked away for eleven years and yearned for freedom.

And her Master.

It was tough, finding him. But she knew that she could always find him. She had a piece of him inside and thus, she knew she could find all of them if she so wished. And it had been strange to her at the time, but she knew then too that she could find the child too, the child that had freed her so kindly, if she put her mind to it.

She should had known that he was a part of her and the Master then and there but she didn’t blame herself for it. She had had other things on her mind then.

And besides, they had him now. The boy they all called Harry. And she liked him.

She liked him a lot.

Her sun would forever be her love but since he had come back to her, he had been colder, not like her but less than a typical human. They enjoyed their time together not by her wrapping herself around him but both of them sun bathing together and conversing, leisurely exchanging ideas about the world. They both suffered in winter now, needing more heat than ever before.

Unable to regulate their body temperature like humans, the cool temperatures of their open home made them slow, inactive, and lazy. Their body’s metabolic rate dropped down, which is why both of them had taken to cuddling up to Harry’s heat, which vigorously recharged them.

The omega was like a little furnace, always running the right shade of hot. And since he had given birth, it appeared to be have increased tenfold. He also smelled really good which made her, in particular, very keen on keeping herself near him.

It was not unusual for her Master to come find his mate in these cold winter months, needing desperately for a cuddle and find her and Harry napping alongside the children in a great pile on the great bed, covered by layers of sheets and blankets, nested perfectly by pillows. It also wasn’t new to find them also speaking in hushed, secret tones about everything and anything at all.

She liked it, all in all. She liked him, their Harry. And she liked spending time with him. And she hated having to leave his heat. Specially when it was so cold outside.

 ** _Do all humans mate like you and the Master do?_** she asked him one afternoon, sluggishly slithering up the bed after one of the others had just left the omega, fucked out and sleepy, to go do... something or other. She didn’t really care and hoped it was to bring food.

 **Wha—** Harry shivered as her cool scales touched his hot skin. **Where is this coming from?** he then asked, parting his legs a bit to give her more to entangle around him and suckle from his inferno heat.

 ** _Is that how you keep warm? By copulation?_** she ignored him and asked, genuinely curious. **_I remember that in my cage, I had neighbors who did that._**

Harry grew hotter in the face as she wrapped herself around his waist and chest. **No** he hissed gentle and shy. **No, I dont need to do that to keep warm...**

 ** _Then why do you do it so much?_** she asked once more, curiousiy making her forked tongue curl in a flicker.

 **Well, I guess—** and again the heat grew and it was so good! **Can you keep a secret?**

She looked at him like he was an idiot. Everyone knew she didn’t care about any of their human restrictions and ‘decorum’ - she found it all very silly. Just say what you mean and be done with it - but she was also a tomb for secrets. She never told. She never betrayed.

 **Ok, ok** he sighed. **Sorry, I just really— ah, I’m embarassed by it**

**_Why?_ **

**Because... I really _like_ it, my pet** he burrowed himself into the pillows ans she was confused

 ** _And why is that embarrassing?_** she inquired, resting her head on his neck, tasting his sweet calming scent.

 **It’s... I guess it’s a human thing, I guess—** Harry tried to explain. **Omegas that enjoy sex too much are thought of as... lesser. We’re not supposed to like it so much. It is an alpha characteristic.**

 ** _That’s stupid_** she hissed and tightened around him for support.

Harry laughed without humor. **Maybe... but I just don’t want him to think badly of me. I want— I want him to love me**

 ** _You shouldn’t be concerned with that_** she told him, very matter of factly.

**Why?**

**_Because, my pet_** she hissed back. **_There is nothing you can ever do to make him stop loving you. He has always loved you. And he was just too stupid to admit it._**

Harry was burning up again but he didn’t speak for a long while. **That doesn’t make any sense. If he loved me, he should’ve—**

**_But he’s doing it now, isn’t he?_ **

**Yeah...**

**_So don’t fret so about it. Things always right themselves. I belong to the Master and I found my way back to him. You belong to him too and you will always belong to him. He will always love you and always find you. Like me._ **

She was unaware of the small, dauntless, pleased little smile that her words were painting on the boy’s face. She was unaware she had lightened him of his own small fears. What she was aware of was that Harry was tired and troubled and she had helped with one of them and now was time for the other.

 ** _I need a nap._** she announced suddenly, tightening slightly around the boy’s small, warm frame.

Harry’s warm hands ran up and down her cool body as he yawned, more tranquil and sweet than before. “Me too”

**_Then sleep._ **

And they did

 


	5. Wrath

"No!" Harry said, forcefully, and he had to sigh, annoyed at yet again the use of that worn word. This was not going well.  
   
"Harry--" Cup began once more in that honeysuckle way of his, the way he always spoke when trying to get something out of his targets. Harry, their beautiful omega, was often prey to those sugary tones and words but what his soul brother lacked to understand, in Ring's personal opinion, was that this was not the time for sugar. The flames of anger and discontent could sour any sugar and their mate was more than pissed to hear any of the pandering that came with them. It was all a waste and he found an echo to said rage in himself as Harry shunned away from the comforting hands of the other horcrux.  
   
"Be reasonable, dear heart" Diadem then spoke. She was smart enough not to touch the cagey omega but she hovered and smiled encouragingly. Ring shook his head silently from his position near the window and said nothing. They were all so... Idiotic sometimes. All of them, Harry included - though he loved Harry more than anything and could forgive his stupidity in the guise of naivety. They didn't exactly tell their mate everything, after all - were unruly as children. They thought too much of themselves and their own personal needs. If they had any sense, they would bet on the winning team that brought them to this point; listen and take the Master's orders as gospel for he was their leader, their maker and protector. He had not failed them. And yet... They still wanted to tempt fate.  
   
"But that is not fair...!" Harry whined and Ring pursed his lips, hating that this was dragging on and it was hurting his omega. Locket tried to take hold of him then. "No!" He slapped his other soul brother away, shocking both him and the Master, and to him the omega turned. "It's not fair!" The boy pointed a finger to his alpha's chest and moved closer to him like the foolish Gryffindor he was.  
   
The Master, of course, was not intimidated. He merely arched a handsome brow and rolled his wand in his hand, deceptively calm. "It doesn't have to be fair, Harry" He explained, keeping a cool detached tone, even though a vein in his forehead pulsed in the strain to do so. "This is not up for discussion or vote. You are not going out and that is that"  
   
"We are not at war anymore, Tom" Harry repeated and Ring was done. This, all of this, was the definition of an unmovable object meeting an unstoppable force and it was useless. Pointless. It was a waste of time and energy that would leave all of them haggard. They shouldn't be fighting amongst themselves when-- "You won, remember? You won and I shouldn't still--"  
   
Oh no.  
   
"Still what, my little Horcrux?" and the strain had now bled in to the Master's voice. Ring felt the surge of pure fear and rage from the Original and he began to feel hot and sweaty and parched from the power. He grit his teeth, wanting to shut the boy horcrux up, because he had no idea-- he had no idea what the fuck he was doing or saying--  
   
"Still your prisoner." Harry foolishly said and childishly crossed his arms. _Fuck_!  
   
There was a deafening silence. It hung about the room like a thick, menacing shadow that filled the air with tension as the two looked at each other with red in their eyes. The layers of hurt and anger were so thick and so heavy; there was no knife on this Earth that could ever cut it. Both of them, alpha and omega, looked upon one another, for the first time in a long time, as enemies that could were willing to kill; as lovers betrayed; as lost, mad souls with no harbor. The electricity made from their magic and conflict bubbled up across the room and now his soul siblings could feel what he had felt from the beginning and despaired in their own special, stupid ways and Ring was ready to hurt them to silence them; to stop them from making it all worse. Fuck, he hated them all!  
   
"If that is what you think you are, than I have less motives to let you out" The Dark Lord sneered, concealing his hurt with cool rage and the indifference of a jailer, as if that would be the final say in all of the argument. Ring rolled his eyes, even more irritated because he knew all too well that it wouldn't be and the Master really should've known better.  
   
"If you stopped acting like I was, than you would have less" Harry spat back, his delicate hands turning into prickly fists and his beautiful face turned red with the overflow of sentiment.  
   
"You are not going to leave this house, Harry!" The Dark Lord shouted, clearly done with being nice.  
   
"I am your mate!" Harry shouted back at him after flinching, displeased and hurt. "I should not be locked away like this! He gritted his teeth, standing on the tips of his toes, looking up at the alpha through leaking eyes. "Mates are supposed to love and trust each other. If you can't trust me, then you don't love me." He accused and the Master's hackles clearly raised in deep offense as the others tried to manage the damage made by unthought words. "And if you don't love me" Harry bravely continued, tearing away Locket's chain from his neck. "Then you are not my alpha!" Harry cried out, throwing Diadem to the floor and turning away from all of them.  
   
Locket gasped and Diadem made a sound as if the omega had actually mortally wounded her. "Harry--"  
   
"Harry Potter, do not turn your back on me" The Master warned but the boy did not stop. His strong magic forced the doors open and then shut them with sonorous, subsequent bangs. There was a mighty roar from the alpha. A roar so powerful and explosive that the walls of the study shook and the windows threatened to shatter. The hurried footsteps of the omega up the stairs told that he was going to his sanctuary and Ring could feel that the Master now regretted making a room just for their wife; a room that Harry solely controlled who entered; a room where they had to ask permission to come inside.  
   
Well, the others had to ask permission to enter. Ring, however, did not.  
   
For Harry hadn't taken him off in his tirade and none of them had noticed. Ring could forgive the Master for doing so, though. For a general had to be concentrated not only on the battle but also on the war. But his soul siblings? A bunch of greenhorns.

He appeared by the closed door as Harry paced back and forth, huffing rather cutely as he stewed in his rage.

“What are you doing here?” He demanded when he caught sight of Ring. “I don’t want to see any of you.”

He didn’t say anything, knowing that any response wouldn’t be good or placating enough. He merely pointed at his own hand and looked at Harry.

“Oh.” Harry huffed once more and, for a moment, his hands jerked into motion, as if ready to tear the other horcrux’s vessel from his finger. He stopped and curled delicate hands into white fists. “I won’t throw you away” he said, frowning. “But just because it would be too hard to find you afterwards.”

“Why do you always fight when you are always so ready to forgive?” He asked, taking one step forward, leaning away from the hard wood of the door. This was the sort of waste that made him so angry. Why did they have to go through all this drama and heartache?

“Why do you all have to be so blind?” Harry spat back, crossing his arms and increasing the distance between them, sitting by the window. “Anyone would think that I was asking for the moon or something!”

“Harry—“

“Don’t.” The omega warned. “Don’t try to make up my mind about this, Ring. I won’t have it.”

“I’m not.” He said, frowning now as well. “When have I ever tried to make you do something you don’t want to?”

Never. That was the answer. He was one of two of their soul siblings that asked for nothing from their queen but love. And in the time that it took for Harry to love all of them, he had been, for that while, the only one the omega truly sought out. Harry would sit, bare of all others but himself, and press his lips and worries against his metal and Ring would hold him and guide him.

He was the soldier, after all. He was battle hardened and knew better any of them the cost of success. To Harry, he was a kindred spirit; the one that understood his doubts and his preoccupations; his hesitation and his melancholy. They were both children of War. They both knew true loss.

Harry said nothing and Ring took that as permission to kneel at his feet. “Harry,” he called once more. “It would be easier to give you the moon than to lose you to the world.”

“Ring—“

“No, listen to me.” He said, firmly. “You said your piece, now please... Listen to me.” He asked, holding his omega’s face, gently turning him so that his mate would face him. “The world... The world is a horrible place, Harry. You know it as much as I do. There are wicked people all around us, still. People that want to do us harm; want us gone. And they’ll do anything to harm us.”

“But—“

“And you have to see that the greatest harm would be done if something were to happen to you, beloved,” he whispered, petting jet black hair. “You are our heart, Harry. We truly live when you are safe and by our side. If something happened to you— I don’t know what we’d do. It would be... Bad and the scope... The scope would monstrous.”

“That’s not fair, Ring.”

“It’s the truth, beloved.”

Harry sighed, looking away from him. “And what if something happened to our babies? Out there, in the wicked world? What would be your response?”

“Monstrous.” He answered with conviction. The mere idea that one of their broad being hurt by that horrible world made his blood boil.

“Do you know what would be mine?”

He blinked. He didn’t. He frowned and pursed his lips before a brief shake of his head.

“It would kill me, Ring.” Harry confessed, and his green eyes were glistening with unshed tears. The rage was floating away from his omega, now, leaving only hurt and sorrow. “To be here, locked here and not there protecting them... it would kill me. To not do— anything. To not be there... it would kill me.”

“You don’t have to worry about that” he quickly said. “I can—“

“If you say you can protect them out there, that means you can protect me too and I should go out too!” Harry growled. And there it was. The spine of steel beneath that softness and love. And he was right. “I am their _mother_. We were made to be partners, to raise them together. To protect them. To love them. To help them. Together.” And he was right about that too.

They sat in silence as the omega’s words rang between them.

“You’re right.” Ring sighed.

Harry didn’t answer. He just closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Ring’s and whimpered. “Why can’t _he_ see that...?”

“He sees it.” Ring promised. “I am a part of him and I know that, in his way, the Master knows this.”

“But how do I make him stop being so stubborn?”

“A sacrifice” Ring suggested, picking himself up along with Harry and taking the omega to the bed that was kept in this safe room.

“I don’t have anything left to give.” Harry counterpointed, hugging the other horcrux by the neck. He seemed hopeless, in his arms. And Ring was angry again, at himself, his whole self, for making such a divine little creature feel this way.

He had been so angry when he had been made. Angry at wizards. Angry at muggles. Angry at King and Country. Angry at the nazis and their horrores. He had been so angry at the world and had vowed to change it. And it sickened him to see that he was imposing that same horrible misery onto the one he loved most.

But one thing he learned after all those years was that anger was just hot air when done nothing. He had learned to use that flame as a catalyst, as a drive. And he would use this, this hate, this wrath, for a good cause. He would help his omega in a way he rarely did.

“I know a way” he said, pressing a kiss on Harry’s temple. “Both of us won’t like it but it will do the trick, I think.”

“What way?” Harry asked, curious as he cuddled up to the firmness of the other horcrux’s chest.

“We’ll give them as sacrifice a public demonstration, you endorsing the Master to the masses, a speech I’ll help you with and when you go out, you take at least three of us with you.”

“Ring—“ Harry already hated it. In their family, there was no such thing of half-ways. It was either all or nothing.

“He will ask for much more, beloved but this is the least control I can afford you.”  
   
“Are you telling me to be diplomatic?”

“It’s horrible, I know” and the omega chuckled, hiding his face against the alpha’s chest.

“No should get hurt.” He said then, already negotiating. “When I speak. If they speak out, leave them be, ok?”

“Alright” Ring said, petting the omega’s back.

“And my friends... I can talk to them.”

His hand stopped.

“With three of you there.” Harry sighed, drawing circles on his sides with his middle finger.

“Alright.”

“It’s eating you up already, isn’t it?” Harry teased, softly, though he himself wasn’t all that pleased.

“Like a hurricane of locusts.” That made the omega laugh, truly and some of the tension was gone. He hated the idea of losing that laugh to one of those brats. Or lose Harry’s smile to the world. But he knew that Harry needed sunshine to be. He used the small rays of goodness in the world to survive after his own war. And to take that away was to kill him.

“I love you, beloved.”

“I love you too.”

And Ring would rather die a hundred times in the flames of his hate than harm one hair on his love’s head.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y’all!  
> So, this was an idea that has been nagging at me for a while and I had to put it to writing.  
> I hope you guys like it. As always, this was written with no beta and if there are any errors, please, feel free to point them out.  
> Also... Comments and kudos are love!


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